


Drink the Wild Air

by Sarahtoo



Series: Phrack Fucking Friday [16]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Established Phrack, F/M, Phrack Fucking Friday, Suspension Of Disbelief, because it's cold, fun in the sun, just ignore the sand, let's warm it up, post series 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 18:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13277028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahtoo/pseuds/Sarahtoo
Summary: Phryne and Jack are on the beach, and she's reminded of another beach, in another town, in a less intimate time.





	Drink the Wild Air

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from this quote: "Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
> 
> Also, please note that I am choosing to handwave the... er, more uncomfortable aspects of this setting. Feel free to suspend your disbelief, much as you might have in _From Here to Eternity_ , though I hope you won't have to suspend it quite that far for this. :D

“Jack, can I ask you a question?”

“I believe you just did, Miss Fisher.” 

Phryne slanted him a look over the top of her sunglasses, raising one eyebrow even as she enjoyed his cheek. The sun reflected brightly off the ocean a few hundred meters away, and they lounged comfortably on a blanket laid over the soft sand behind their rented house on the Mediterranean coast. Phryne lounged under the shade of a tall umbrella, but Jack sat propped on his hands, his eyes closed and his face raised to the sunshine. His hair was still damp from a recent swim, and though his skin had mostly dried, droplets of water sparkled on his shoulders. He’d folded up his towel beneath him to keep the blanket dry, and the short skirt of his navy-blue swimsuit was still dripping sullenly.

“Do you remember the beach at Queenscliff, and diving for that knife?” Reaching out, she touched one of the droplets on the shoulder nearest her, causing it to break and trickle down his bicep, winding along the sun-warmed curves of his skin.

Jack turned his head lazily toward her, his eyes opening halfway. “You mean the time you ogled my constable in his swimwear?”

“I think you’ll find that it was Dot ogling your constable, darling,” she laughed. “I was far too busy watching my handsome detective inspector, who rose from the waves like Poseidon with so many lovely muscles on view.” Jack shouted with laughter at that, and Phryne grinned, moving to touch another drop of seawater just to see it move. 

“I half expected you to make a romantic overture on that trip, I’ll admit,” Jack said when his laughter had dwindled to chuckles. “But no, you let me languish in my desire for the intrepid lady detective who couldn’t even tell that I was flirting.”

“That was not flirting, Jack—you were far too stern.” Phryne trailed one finger down the track of water the drop had made on his arm, and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Though admittedly fit.” His skin was warm from the sun, and golden in contrast to the paleness of her own. He glanced at her, and then down at her trailing finger, and she felt a shiver run through him.

“I was head over heels for you already,” he murmured, shifting to stretch out beside her on one elbow, his expression tender. “I nearly ravished you more than once on that trip.”

“Really?” Phryne’s voice was incredulous, and she slid down to lie on the blanket beside him, mirroring his position. “Do tell.”

“Oh yes,” he rumbled, reaching out to run a finger down her cheek. “In your bedroom that first evening. The noises you made as I opened that champagne—” he groaned softly in memory “—and you in that white velvet dress that begged me to touch it.”

“But you didn’t, Jack,” her voice was both delighted and disappointed as she both acknowledged his feelings and lamented the fact that he hadn’t acted on them.

“Too terrified,” he admitted, and smiled when she laughed at the idea. “Then, when we walked back to the house, wet to the skin, with you in my overcoat.”

“I still have no idea how Mr. Butler managed to clean and dry those clothes before morning.” Phryne mused. Her fingers traced the top edge of his swimsuit, skiing lightly over the swells of his chest muscles.

“That whole walk, I wanted nothing more than to pull you into my arms to warm you up.” His finger trailed down her neck, and Phryne arched into his touch, her hand flattening over his heart. “I even had a line ready—” his voice dropped slightly “‘Let’s get you out of these wet things, Miss Fisher.’” Shaking his head, he palmed her shoulder, his hand large and heavy against her skin. “But Mr. B was waiting for us, and he whisked you away before I could say a word.”

“Poor Jack,” she said with mock solicitude, lowering her chin to meet his gaze; she shaped her mouth into a pout, but her eyes sparkled with humor. “And poor me, really.”

He flashed a grin. “And then, we had our very romantic date under the pier—” He slid his hand down her arm to curve over her waist.

“Exactly where I’d found a dead body just a day earlier,” she murmured, slipping her hand up to cup the strong column of his neck. 

He slanted her a quelling look. “—and I was just about to make my move when the fight broke out above us.”

“Make your move?” Phryne tilted her head, delighted at the thought. “And what move would that have been?” 

“Something rather like this, I think,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. 

She hummed with pleasure as he gently brushed his smile over hers. Phryne slid her hand to the back of his neck, her fingers brushing softly against the short hairs there as she leaned closer. In response, Jack tilted his head to cover her mouth more completely with his own, sipping at her lips before sliding his tongue between them. 

She opened her mouth, the taste and slickness of his tongue against hers causing desire to pool pleasurably in her belly. Moving closer still, she pressed her chest to his, sliding one of her feet between his. He stroked the hand on her waist down to her hip, pulling her against him. Phryne could feel the hardening length of his cock against her belly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her bottom.

Eventually, she broke the kiss, her breathing—and his, she noticed—fast and hard. “That is a very nice move, inspector,” she murmured.

“Why thank you,” he said, bumping her nose gently with his own.

“Was that the last of your attempts at seduction?” Phryne asked, regretfully putting some space between them. She really did want to hear his side of that Queenscliff case, but Jack’s kisses were not something she took lightly, even now, after six weeks of experiencing their sweetness without restraint.

“Well, I did parade in front of you almost entirely naked, and you _still_ didn’t take the bait,” he said, with humorous resignation in his voice.

“Oh, but I noticed, Jack—I just didn’t realize you were acting as bait.” _To hell with space._ Phryne leaned forward, pushing Jack onto his back and draping herself over his chest. Jack raised a hand to set it on her naked back, his fingertips on the rise of her bottom.

“Have I told you how much I like this swimsuit?” He raised his other hand to settle it on the other side of her waist, his thumb stroking the line where the mostly-open back met her skin.

“Why inspector,” Phryne purred, “are you flirting with me?”

“Now _that_ is what I’d hoped you would say when we were in Queenscliff.” Jack muttered the words, his petulance mostly feigned, and Phryne just had to kiss his sulky mouth. 

She took his bottom lip gently between her teeth, loving the way he sighed into her mouth even as she bit him. Letting go, she slicked her tongue along the inner edge of his lips, and Jack’s came out to coax it closer. Pulling back slightly, she shook her head at him; he narrowed his eyes but subsided, and she moved in again. Resting a hand on his cheek, she took her time with the kiss, exploring his lips with her own. She outlined his mouth with the seam of her lips, enjoying the softness of his lips contrasted with the slight scratchiness of his afternoon beard, though it was not yet visible.

Jack’s chest expanded against her as he tried to master his breathing and his hands kneaded her waist, his thumbs rubbing her ribcage under the edge of her swimsuit. Phryne relished the contact, but didn’t speed up her exploration of his mouth. Lifting her head slightly, she ran her thumb across his lower lip, dipping it inside his mouth; Jack closed his lips around it, sucking strongly, and Phryne gasped, her nipples hardening at the sensation.

“Jack,” she whispered, pulling her thumb away and lowering her mouth to his again. 

“Phryne,” he responded, the word a caress in itself.

His breath gusted across her face as she slid her tongue along the opening to his lips, and Jack groaned deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against her breasts. With a soft lick, she took his upper lip into her mouth, then the lower, before angling her head slightly to kiss him properly. 

When her tongue slid against his own, Jack’s control broke, his arms wrapping around her, one hand moving to grasp her bottom as he hauled her up and over his body to lie entirely atop him. Phryne sighed as she kissed him, luxuriating in the taste of his mouth, the cool kiss of his wet suit against her sun-warmed skin, the feel of his erection pressing against her belly.

Finally, she planted her elbows beside his head and lifted her mouth to survey him with half-closed eyes. He met her gaze, his chest heaving, and lifted his hips slightly.

“Phryne, I want…” His voice was a low rumble, and his hands on her bottom pressed her close to his hardness.

“I know, darling,” she whispered. “And just so you know, _this_ is what I was thinking when you came jogging out of the surf that day.” Resting her weight on one elbow, she set a hand on his shoulder, loving the smoothness of his skin stretched taut over muscle. “I was on fire, looking at your body. Broad shoulders, wide chest,” she slid her hand down to toy with the hair that peeked out over the top edge of his swimsuit. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she went on. “Narrow hips that would fit perfectly between my legs.”

With a surge, Jack pushed up and kissed her again, his mouth hard and needy, his tongue hot between her lips. He slid his hands down to her thighs and tugged them apart until she was straddling him, the fit of their hips as perfect as she’d imagined it would be, all those months ago. With his hands on her hips, he rocked her against him; Phryne moaned into his mouth as sensation flowed from the pressure of his cock against her sex.

Breaking away, she sat up, her hands on his chest, fingernails softly scraping at his nipples. With quick gesture, she tossed her wide-brimmed sun hat aside and arched her back, curling her arms behind her neck to unhook the halter top of her suit. Holding Jack’s eyes, she drew it down to puddle at her waist, baring her skin to the sun.

“I’m sorry I ever questioned the expense of renting a house with a private beach,” he said, his voice fervent as his hands slid up to cover her breasts.

“I told you it would be worth it, Jack,” she whispered, rocking her hips against his hardness as he kneaded her soft flesh. Setting her hands on his wrists, she bit her lower lip as his clever fingers toyed with her nipples, his wide palms cradling the smooth undercurves of her breasts.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured. As she watched, he sat up, the contraction of his stomach muscles palpable against her thighs. Sliding one hand behind her back, he opened his mouth over the breast he still held, his tongue warm and slick against her nipple. Gasping, Phryne pushed her hands into his hair—still damp from his swim and free of pomade, it curled softly around her fingers—and cupped them around his head, dropping her chin to watch his mouth work against her skin.

His suckling on her nipple sent sensation rippling down her body, and Phryne whimpered lightly, his name leaving her on a breath of air. Sliding her hands down his neck, she pushed at the straps of his swimsuit, nudging them off his shoulders; without lifting his head, Jack helped, extracting first one arm, then the other before replacing his hands on her body. Switching his mouth to her other breast, he lightly pinched the nipple he’d just suckled, a tiny pain on the already-sensitive flesh.

“Touch me, Jack,” Phryne whispered, and Jack lifted his head, his eyes blurry with arousal and his lips swollen from suction. 

Blinking, he slid the hand on her breast down her belly, his tanned hand dark against the paleness of her skin, its spread fingers almost as wide as her waist. He held her eyes as he rotated his hand and slipped it under the fabric of her swimsuit to cup the intimate flesh between her legs.

“Like this?” The low rumble of his voice was nearly inaudible, and the slide of his fingertips across the slippery folds sent pleasure rocketing through her body. 

“Yes,” Phryne drew out the word into a hiss as Jack’s fingers circled and stroked. She leaned forward and he followed, lying back against the sun-warmed blanket. Phryne placed one hand beside his head and the other on his chest, the heat of his body rivalling that of the sun as his fingers sending darts of pleasure along her nerves. Her head drooping forward, she pressed her forehead to his as she came, her mouth opening on a silent wail, and her body shaking around his fingers.

“God, I love you,” he murmured, lifting his chin to kiss her again, withdrawing his hand from her swimsuit to wrap his arms around her. 

Phryne slid her arms around his neck, lying against his chest and devouring his mouth as the aftershocks continued to shudder through her. They sat that way for long moments, rocking softly, their kisses drifting into sweetness; Jack’s arms stroked up her back, one big hand cupping the back of her head as he moved her to angle his lips against hers. Before long, Phryne’s arousal was building again, her hips rocking against his hard cock where it pressed into her damp heat, the thick fabric of their swimsuits an increasingly unwanted barrier.

Whimpering, she tore her mouth from his and pushed up on her knees, wanting more of him touching more of her. Jack’s groan as she pulled away was loud, and his eyes were heavy with want.

“Take that off, Jack.” Taking her own advice, she rose to her feet, pushing her swimsuit down her legs and kicking it off. 

Jack, who had moved to obey, paused, his eyes drifting up her body. She stood proudly above him, unashamed of her nakedness, her eyes hot on his and the damp pink flesh of her sex open to his gaze. She watched him take her in, his eyes lingering on the black hair at the apex of her thighs, and the moisture that she knew he would be able to see.

“Jack,” she chided softly, her voice tender but tight. “Please.”

Taking a deep breath, he pushed his suit off his feet. Phryne took just a moment to appreciate the unveiling of his skin, the angled muscles above his thighs, and the length of his hardened cock stretching out of its dark nest of hair. She licked her lips and lowered herself back to his lap, taking his hands, which he’d raised to assist her. She shivered at his touch, sliding her hands up his arms to his shoulders while she positioned herself so that his cock lay in line with her sex. As she settled herself against him, her eyes fluttered closed and her head dropped back—the sensation of his naked skin against hers was one that she didn’t think she’d ever tire of. 

Jack’s arms came warmly around her, his mouth finding the curve of her neck as she settled against him, arching her back and rocking her hips to spread the wetness he’d helped create along the length of his cock. She murmured praise in his ear, letting him know how much he pleased her; his kisses on her neck grew more avid, and his chest heaved with his breath, rubbing against her sensitive nipples. Finally, Jack lifted his head, kissing her hard as he set his hands on her hips to urge her into faster motion. 

“Please, now, Phryne,” he groaned against her mouth, the words rippling down her throat and across her skin. “Please.”

In response, Phryne kissed him again, sliding a hand down his chest to grasp his cock. She loved the pained sound he made when she squeezed lightly; at her soft “up”, his hands slid to grasp her waist, lifting her as she flexed her thighs to rise and position him at the entrance to her body. With just the head of his cock inside her, Phryne slipped her arms around his neck and held still. 

“My Jack,” she whispered.

“Always yours,” he replied, his body nearly shaking with restraint as he kept himself from pushing into her.

“I love you.” The words left her mouth on barely more than a breath as she slid her tongue slowly past his lips, echoing the penetration of his cock into her body; she pressed her hips down, relishing the pressure and the stretch of her muscles. She didn’t stop until he was fully embedded within her.

As if at some unheard signal, their kiss turned carnal, a clashing of tongues and teeth, with Phryne’s hands fisting in his hair and Jack’s fingers biting into the flesh of her ass. On a moan, Phryne began to move, fucking him slowly at first, then picking up speed. As her pleasure grew, she arched away from Jack, the slight roughness of his chest hair and the drag of his nipples against her skin a delicious friction as she sat up. Jack followed the pull of her hands in his hair, setting one of his hands on the blanket and contracting his stomach muscles; Phryne’s head dropped backward, the sun warm on her face, while the wet heat of Jack’s mouth enveloped her nipple. The slapping of their flesh echoed in the quiet air along with their pleasured gasps, and the scent of heat and sex rose around them.

Craving more powerful thrusts, Phryne tugged Jack’s head away from her breast and walked her hands down his chest, pushing him to his back. He moved gracefully, his supporting hand sliding up her thigh her hip. Grasping his wrists, she flexed her thighs until she hovered at the tip of his cock, then let herself fall onto him, the pressure of the thrust forcing a moan from her throat. She repeated the motion until her thighs burned from the effort and she could see the tendons in Jack’s throat standing out with the effort he was making to hold back his orgasm. He’d laid his head against the blanket, and his jaw was clenched, his eyes half-open as he focused on her. 

Feeling a rush of love for him, Phryne heaved breath into her lungs, pulling one of his hands up her chest to cover her breast and pushing the other down between her thighs. Jack’s eyes opened fully as he cupped the slight weight of her breast and pinched the nipple between his first two fingers; he watched as his other hand slid between them, palm up, the heel of his hand pressing against her clit and his fingers spearing to either side of where she continued to rise and fall on his cock.

With a short, high scream, Phryne’s climax forced her back into a sharp arch, her head whipping backward as she shattered; Jack followed suit with an inarticulate shout, his hands clenching against her. They held there for a long moment, a portrait of pleasure, their bodies locked together and their muscles tight as orgasm left them rigid. Finally, gasping, Phryne collapsed against his chest and buried her face in his neck, her arms lying limply alongside his head as his came up to wrap around her back. He turned his head against her, pressing his lips to her hair, and his panting breaths washed intimately over her ear.

They lay there, entwined, for long minutes, their breathing evening out and their bodies cooling. Before too long, Phryne became aware of the heat of the sun on her back, and—much as she wanted to stay right where she was—she stirred.

“If I don’t move, I’m going to end up with a sunburn in a rather unfortunate place,” she murmured, pushing up from Jack’s chest.

He loosened his arms as she moved, a small, disappointed sound escaping him. 

“I agree, my beautiful Jack,” she soothed, stroking a hand down his chest before rolling off of him. “But perhaps you’d like to join me for a short siesta? Our lovely bed will be quiet and cool.”

Jack rolled to one elbow to watch as she shrugged on her beach wrap, and she paused to look at him. He really was beautiful, his shoulders broad and his arms tanned; his narrow waist and hips leading to powerful thighs; his cock, replete and glistening with their combined moisture, lying softly against his lap. 

“Well, I’d believe that it’s cool now—but I doubt it’ll stay that way, or particularly quiet, once we’re in it.” Phryne’s eyes moved to his face, where the tiny quirk of his lips echoed the humor in his tone. 

“Are you complaining, Jack?” Pulling the tie of her wrap tight, Phryne leaned over him to reach her hat, then knelt up to settle it on her head. Jack lifted a lazy hand to stroke down her side, and she flashed him a smile.

“Not even a little bit,” he responded quickly. “Just making sure that you understood the ramifications of your invitation.” 

“Well, I’m sure that I can be more specific if you like,” she purred, moving close to kiss him softly. “Come inside, Jack. I’ll let you ravish me this time.” She nibbled softly at his lips. 

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” He said, pressing a hard kiss to her lips before rolling away and to his feet, gathering their swimsuits in one hand as he moved. Turning back to her, easy in his nudity, he held a hand out to her and she clasped it, charmed by his joy. “Let’s get a wriggle on, Miss Fisher.” 

Pulling her up quickly, he caught her around the waist and lifted her off her feet, heading toward the house. Phryne wrapped her arms around his shoulders, enjoying the bunching of his muscles as he carried her to their bed, her delighted laughter echoing out across the waves. 


End file.
